


Canada's Secret

by AuthorReinvented



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: America, Canada, Canada is an asshole, Other, mad - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:00:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21558988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorReinvented/pseuds/AuthorReinvented
Summary: Canada has a secret that only America knows.Most of the time he is the nicest nation in the world.But sometimes....he's an asshole.
Relationships: America/Canada (Hetalia)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 150





	1. That Time with the TV

America liked his brother. It was true he often forgot about him, or sometimes bullied him, and once or twice had fought with him, but that didn't mean he didn't like Canada. Although, he thought, there are sides of Canada that are less than pleasant. Sides that only America knows. 

As an example, most people just think of Canada as a really nice country, when they noticed him. But sometimes, Canada gets pissed off. In times like those, Canada is an asshole.

Like that time with the TV. 

America had been minding his business, watching TV, while Canada read in the other room. It was true, he thought that the volume had been a little loud, but who could fault him? He was America, after all. Eventually, Canada couldn't take it anymore.

"Hey, America, can you please turn down the TV?" Canada said in a rather stronger tone than he usually used.

"What?" America asked, turning the volume up a few notches. 

"I said," Canada said, shouting to be heard over the TV "CAN YOU TURN THAT DOWN? PLEASE!" 

America froze for a moment, eyeing Canada assessingly. "Dude!" He yelled over the TV. "I can't hear you over the TV!" He grinned as Canada threw up his hands and left the room. America had a slight idea what that was about, but it was fun to tease his brother, so he couldn't help it. He turned back to the TV with a chuckle. The next moment he barely dodged the heavy wooden stick aimed at his head. Canada stood over him brandishing the hockey stick and brought it down again perilously close to America's private regions. America pressed himself flat against the back of the couch, trying to disappear like Canada sometimes does, quivering ever so slightly. Canada reached over the back of the couch, picked up the remote, and turned the volume all the way down. "Dude?" America ventured tremulously, "what gives?" Canada stayed in his position, leaning over the back of the couch and leaned in really close to America. 

**"I said to turn down the fucking TV, fat ass."** He hissed in America's ear, before gathering his hockey stick back and stalking out of the room without another word.

It had taken a few moments for America's heart to calm down after that. When he did go back to the TV, he made sure the volume was not too high. 

And that was just one example.


	2. When it comes to hockey

America doubled over laughing at Canada, who he had just beaten to a pulp in baseball. "Omg dude, I can't believe that you're so bad at this!" He steadied himself on the baseball bat, wheezing. Canada, covered in bruises and aching all over, pulled himself up to his feet. "I don't want to play anymore!" Canada wailed, wiping tears of pain from the corners of his eyes. "Ah, dude, don't be like that!" America laughed. "We could play another sport?" America was oozing confidence. "Another sport?" Canada perked up right away. Almost too fast. "Hockey." The words hung on the air. "Huh?" America blanched under the word, remembering a trauma from his past. "Let's play hockey!" Canada's whole tone changed and even his whole personality seemed to catch on fire. He turned to look at America and his eyes glinted maliciously. America backed up a few steps, palms out . "N-now let's talk this over, maybe we can choose a different sport?" A baseball flew past America's head at record pace, and Canada picked up another from the pile America had thrown at him, a murderous look on his face. " **We. Are. Playing. HOCKEY**." He squeezed the hard ball in his hand and it splintered like wood. Chills went down America's back and he flinched, knowing he couldn't back out now. Canada lost to America at most sports, but hockey was his forte, and he knew it. Whenever hockey was mentioned, its like it flipped a switch in Canada. America shuddered as he had a flashback to the last time Canada's switch had flipped. "Please don't kill me.." he muttered helplessly as Canada pulled out his car keys.

.......

To be honest, America didn't remember most of the game, only that he played like his life depended on it, and judging by the look on Canada's face, there was a high chance it did. Canada's usual passive nature and mild way of speaking completely disappeared on the ice. He trash-talked like an American. It didn't seem to matter what move America made, Canada always had a counter move, and an insult to go with it. America could barely keep up. "That all you got?" he remembered shouting at one point. "My grandma can play better than that!" Canada hadn't even had the decency to sneer back. "Pftt," he scoffed. "Sorry, its just that, your insult was so lame I couldn't help but laugh. Perhaps you should have your grandma play against me instead" he snickered "Then I can have a real game!" America, for the sake of his pride tried so hard, but for every goal he scored, Canada scored three. When at last the game ended, America dropped to the ground in an exhausted heap, both mentally and physically worn out. Canada finished his victory lap around the ring and skated up to America, now calm and meek again. "Good game." he said amicably, holding out a hand to America. America's depression and humiliation must've shown on his face, as Canada tried to cheer him up. "Don't be down, there's always next time!" he offered helpfully. America brightened. "That's right! next time I'll defeat y-" " **I'll crush you."** Canada cut him off, his hand tightening on America's shoulder. America sighed. "Of course."


	3. Canada's Addiction

"America?" Canada asked sweetly as he came around the corner. Have you seen my -" he stopped short. "Are those my pancakes?" America stopped stuffing his face for a moment and froze warily. "I didn't think you'd mind." Canada heaved a sigh, and went to the cupboard. "Its fine, I'll just make more. As long as there's maple syrup left." America cast a nervous glance to the empty bottle on the table. "Yeah....about that..." there was a clang as Canada dropped the bowl and turned to look at America. " **There is some left, right?** " America felt chills run down his spine and he began to sweat nervously.

"Well, it ran out....But-" he started hurriedly, as Canada's face got ever darker, "I have some american maple syrup!" "Eh?' Canada seemingly calmed down, tipping his head excitedly. America reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of maple flavored Mrs Buttersworth and presented it to Canada proudly. "Here!" In a flash, Canada whipped the lady-shaped bottle of syrup out of America's hand and hurled it across the room, where the bottle shattered, splattering the wall with amber liquid. "Canada?" America asked timidly. " **That is NOT maple syrup**!" Canada growled, seething with rage. "Its Maple flavored!" America protested, somewhat offended. " **Eh?** " "N-nevermind." Canada stomped over to the cupboard, still snarling to himself under his breath. "Now I have to use something else." He complained, pulling out multiple maple products out of the cupboard. "Now, should I have maple flakes? Or maybe maple butter? I do have maple sugar as well.." he muttered to himself.

America sidled up to the counter quietly, and curiously peaked over his brother's shoulder. "What's Maple butter?" he asked picking up the bottle and turning it around. Canada brightened in the way he only does when speaking about maple syrup or Tim Hortons. "Eh! That's like a creamy maple spread! Its really good, you should try it!" "What? no way, that sounds weird!" america denied loudly, laughing."Maple flavored butter sounds GROSS!" Canada pulled a butter knife out of the drawer and turned to him with a glinting eye. " **TRY IT**." "Whoa, okay, okay, don't get your panties in a twist, geez!" America allowed Canada to scoop up a pile of creamy maple and apply it to his tongue.

"Well?" Canada's eyes shone excitedly. "Its good!" America said in surprise.. Canada nodded with a satisfied air. "Of course! I made it!" He turned suddenly with a smile. "Ah! I think I have a can of maple syrup in the cupboard!" he began rummaging through the cupboard, pulling out cans of maple flavored beans and bottles of maple vodka and rum. "Aha!" he said happily, pulling out a can of maple syrup. "Maple syrup comes in cans?" America was impressed. "I was about to make myself some maple coffee." Canada commented calmly, "Do you want any?" America blanched. "Thanks, I'm good dude! I reserve my maple for pancakes." "Suit yourself!" Canada shrugged. America watched Canada make himself some coffee and pancakes a growing concern in his mind.

He rolled the question around on his tongue tying to think of how to phrase it. "So, Canada, dude," he asked cautiously "Not that there's anything wrong with it, but don't you think you have too much maple stuff?" Canada looked surprised. "Do you think so?" "Well, its just that everything you have either has a maple leaf on it, or maple in it. Isn't it a bit much?" Canada frowned. "That's not true! I have a lot of stuff without maple in it! I just really like maple, okay?" America sighed. "Even your bacon is maple, dude! You eat candies made of pure maple syrup! I saw you drink maple syrup straight out of the jug once! You even put it in your coffee!"

Canada sipped said coffee. "So?" "Dude!" america was incredulous. "You're, like, totally addicted!" Canada's eyes widened in shock. "I don't think so!" he argued mildly. "I can give up maple at anytime!" This was the opening America had been waiting for. " Fine then! I challenge you to got one week without any maple products whatsoever! Not even maple flavored things!" Canada gasped. "But I-" "What?" America demanded. "Can't do It?" He smirked. Canada got competitive. "I can do it! But you have to give up burgers for a week too!" "You're on!" America declared triumphantly. He would later regret this decision for the rest of his life.


	4. Maple Withdrawal-Part 1

_Day 1 without Maple:_

America couldn't help but laugh at Canada. It had taken him almost an hour for him to get dressed and ready, as he had difficulty finding clothes without a maple leaf on it somewhere, even his under wear and socks had maple leaves on them. He finally managed to find some jeans and a plain white t shirt and a red hoodie. After that, he had gone shopping first thing, as most of the food in his house was maple flavoured. He eventually managed to make himself a french vanilla flavoured coffee instead of a maple coffee sweetened with white sugar instead of maple sugar, and toast with honey instead of maple butter. By the time America showed up, at lunch, Canada was already looking quite frazzled. Every few minutes he got up and paced around the room, before sitting back down after doing nothing, only to repeat again in a few minutes. After America finally managed to stifle his laughter, he offered Canada a sucker. After all, Canada was his brother first, victim second. After taking the sugary treat, Canada managed to calm down, feeling less like he was missing something. "You okay bro?" America snickered, "its okay to admit defeat, you know!" Canada frowned. "I just needed some sugar. I just don't have any candy that's not maple flavoured, so I was craving sugar, that's all." Canada stubbornly stated. America wasn't bothered. He knew it wouldn't be long till Canada gave in to his cravings. Canada looked determined, though. "A week won't be a problem" he stated firmly, although America wasn't sure if he was trying to convince America or himself.

_Day 2 without Maple:_

Canada was definitely off, America noted. The first thing he had noticed when he came over was how clean Canada's house was. Besides all of the Maple leaf themed items being removed, the hardwood floor literally sparkled, having been washed and waxed. The walls seemed blindingly white and bright red, respectively. Upon closer inspection, America saw cans of paint stacked neatly in the corner of the room. Everything in Canada's house seemed to have been cleaned. Even the toothbrushes in the bathroom (One for Canada, one for America when he slept over) had been replaced. Canada himself, surprisingly, was quite dirty when America first saw him. He pulled the dust cloth down from over his mouth and waved a dusty hand at America. "I'm so sorry!" he gasped, "I forgot the time!" "Dude," America asked, bemused "why do you look like you rolled in a dustbin?" "I was spring cleaning!" Canada announced happily. "You'd be surprised at the amount of dust in the attic!" "Spring cleaning?" America guffawed. "Its the beginning of fall!" "Well," Canada shifted uncomfortably. "Never a bad time to clean!" "I know what this is!" America realized. "You're trying to forget about maple stuff by working!" Canada flinched. "that;s not it! I just suddenly got the urge to clean, that's all!" he quickly changed the subject. "How are you doing without your burgers? America shrugged, distracted. "I'm fine, lately I've taken to eating hot dogs instead. When I get tired of them, I figure I'll just have some corn dogs, or mac and cheese with hot dogs!" Canada gritted his teeth together, throwing a dark look at America.

_Day 3 without Maple:_

America knew something was wrong the moment he entered Canada's house. The entire building was dark, and there was no sign of Canada anywhere. After looking around, America found him curled up in a pile of blankets on his bed. He didn't respond when America called his name, and when America tried to roll him over to see his face, Canada whimpered. America began to feel really concerned. "Um, Canada, bro, you okay?" he ventured. "Mmmhmm." Canada hummed, not moving. "Are you sure? You don't seem well?" Canada didn't respond to this at all. "Listen bro, you can give up if its too hard on you." America suggested. "There's no punishment you know." "I'm fine." Canada said weakly. "Just tired. Please leave me alone." His voice caught, and America wondered if he was crying. Uncertainly, America left the room, and slipped down to the kitchen, where he made one of his brother's favorite childhood drinks, hot chocolate. Carefully, he brought it upstairs and placed it gently next to Canada's bed. "Here. Made you hot chocolate." He said awkwardly, setting it on the nightstand next to the bed. "You can drink it if you feel like it." America hesitated. "Maybe later." He added when Canada didn't respond. As he left the room and shut the door behind him, he thought he could hear the blankets shift as Canada sat up. But maybe it was just a trick of the mind, he thought. 

_Day 4 without Maple:_

There was a world meeting today, and America was feeling a bit antsy. God, he would kill for a burger right then, but he wasn't about to show it. He was determined to win the bet against Canada. When he entered the meeting room, the first thing he noticed was that Canada wasn't there yet. Canada always tried to be early, unless he came with America. It was strange of him not to be there already. He furrowed his brows, remembering how Canada was yesterday, and wondered if perhaps he should have stopped by to pick him up instead. His concerns were relieved, momentarily, as the doors flew open with a bang and Canada entered the room, but immediately returned. Canada, invisible Canada, had just stormed into the room, and, at the moment, he was VERY noticeable. " **Move**." He shoved Russia out of his seat and plopped down. Russia was so surprised, he didn't even get mad. "Canada!" England blurted out, startled. "Nice of you to notice." Canada snarled. "About time someone did." An awkward silence descended on the conference room, and France hesitantly asked "Mon cher garcon, are you ...well?" America could see by Canada's face that this was not going to go well. "I haven't been your "Cher garcon" since 1759," he snarled. "and I am quite well. " France flinched as though he had been hit. A couple countries stirred as though they wanted to say something, but wisely decided to stay quiet. America broke the silence. "Ah, he didn't mean that! He's going through a maple syrup withdrawal so-" The boardroom erupted in "Canada without maple syrup? Is the world ending?" and "But doesn't he have a maple syrup reserve?" and general offers to assist Canada in getting more maple syrup instantly. America noticed his brother's eye twitching dangerously and attempted to calm the room down. "It's not a big deal!" he attempted to convince them. "Canada is just going cold turkey on maple syrup for a week to prove it isn't an addiction!" This stopped the panic about running out of maple syrup, but by no means calmed the crowd. "How much longer before he goes back to normal?" Denmark asked. Canada stood up. "There is _nothing_ wrong with me. Now start the meeting or I'll beat your fucking heads in with a hockey stick." He demanded, not at all as though there was nothing wrong. Germany boldly stood up and took charge of the meeting. After that, the meeting went much smoother than any other meeting before. But no one was pleased about it. The main cause, was, of course, Canada. He savagely dissected every flaw in America's plans, snapped at Romano and Spain for chatting during the meeting, and interrupted Frances speech when he got off topic and began to sexually harass other countries. In other words, Canada was on a rampage. When Russia pulled out his "magic metal pipe of pain" to help "convince" Canada to calm down, Canada pulled a lacrosse stick out of nowhere and broke it over Russia's head, effectively knocking out Russia and preventing any further interference. So yes, the meeting went much smoother than normal, America thought, but no one was happy about it.

_Day 5 without Maple:_

Canada had not moved for three hours, America noted, and did not seem about to move anytime soon. He was staring blankly at the wall across the room, despite there being nothing particularly interesting on it. When America suggested they get some food, Canada had insisted he "Wasn't hungry". At this point, America was past the point of "concerned" and was seriously considering an intervention. Possibly having France and England hold down Canada while he dumped maple syrup down his throat. Originally, America's plan was to simply stop in, check on Canada, and get the hell out of there, because of yesterday's display, but when he arrived, Canada had been sitting there, limply, staring at the wall. He hadn't even changed out of his pajamas and his face looked a little gaunt and pale. America had grown worried, and decided to stay, seating himself on the couch and watching TV. Except, after three hours, he was bored, and Canada still showed no sign of moving. "You know," he ventured "No." Canada replied shortly, not waiting for the rest of the sentence. America sighed. He himself was suffering withdrawal, having constant cravings for a hamburger like he was a pregnant woman. He had woken up in the middle of the night yesterday from a dream about eating a huge juicy burger, only to find he was chewing on his own arm. Still, it was nothing like this, he thought. After night fell, Canada moved for the first time. America was eating a corn dog on the couch at the time, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw his brother standing right in front of him. Canada swayed on his feet, and America jumped up and caught him under the arm, steadying him. "Whoa, you okay?" he questioned, worried for his brother's health. "Wanna get something to eat?" Canada shook his head, then fell against America's side, apparently dizzy. He grabbed the front of America's shirt with one hand. "Can I stay at your house tonight?" An unusual request from Canada, America thought, knowing that Canada dislike the loudness of America's house. But, he could hardly say no with his brother like this, and besides, America felt a little guilty about pushing him to this. "Of course!" He managed to respond. Canada seemed to perk up as soon as he entered America's house, and even ate a little of the chicken soup America served him. He was still very quiet, much quieter than normal, but less listless. Unwilling to leave Canada alone during this time, America set up a sleeping bag in the living room, while Canada slept on the couch. As he settled down to sleep, Canada reached out a hand and grabbed America's hand, the same way he had done when he was little. "I like this." Canada muttered, seemingly more to himself, then America. America was surprised for a moment, then squeezed his brothers hand back. "Me too." he said softly. But at that point, Canada was already asleep.


	5. Maple Withdrawal-Part 2

_Day 6 without Maple:_

When America woke up, the first thing he saw was England's face. England's face was something America would have loved to see as he woke up when he was younger, but now that he was older, to him, it only spelled trouble. This thought was only fortified when he heard France's voice in the background. "Ugh" he complained, getting up. "What do you want." "How rude!" England complained. "It's not like I came to see you, anyways. I only came because I heard from this idiot-" Here he jerked his head towards France, "-that Canada was at your place, so I came to check up on him." Still waking up, America yawned and cracked his neck. "Wha-? How did France know he was here?" he managed to say through his yawn. "How else~" France cut in sounding quite distraught. "Canada called me himself, dead drunk~ What else could I do but come rushing to his side?" This woke America up enough to comprehend the situation. France's shirt was torn and missing a few buttons, and he was sporting a bright red slap mark across his cheek. America also noticed for the first time that England looked like he had lost a fight to a polar bear. "Wait," America shot to his feet."Where's Canada?"

He found Canada at the shooting range in America's backyard, shooting America's rifle rapid fire at the targets. All of them were hit dead center. "Canada?" America called cautiously. "Bro!" Canada was clearly drunk. His eyes were shining a little too much, and his cheeks were flushed. He waved the gun in a hello and accidentally fired a shot. America dodged. "Ah Canada, careful!" England warned. France stayed strategically behind England. "Eh?" Canada didn't seem to understand. America threw up a hand to stop England. When Canada was drunk, you had to deal with him in a certain way or you get your ass beat. "Hey, Canada, dude," he began, trying not to look nervous. "That's like my favorite gun, so if you could, like, not break it, I'd appreciate it." "Oh." Canada looked at the gun in his hand as if he was seeing it for the first time. When Canada laid the gun down carefully, America jumped on the chance to distract him. "So I was gonna get some coffee, you wanna-" "Timmies!" Canada got really excited. America sighed and nodded. "Yeah, sure we'll go to Tim Hortons." Canada looked up and noticed England standing there. He smiled from ear to ear and threw himself into his arms. "England! You finally came to see me!" England looked unsure of what to do with an armful of drunk Canada, and France relocated to behind America. America mouthed at England from behind Canada's back. "Say yes." England seemed to understand. "Of course Canada. I'm sorry I didn't come sooner." Canada pouted. "You go see America." He frowned, suddenly pulling away from England. "I'm Canada, you know! I'm not America!" England looked quite ashamed. "I know." The punch came out of nowhere, socking England in the stomach. "You ignore me all this time and now you just decide to show up? Why did you even take me from France if you didn't want to pay attention to me?" He began to sniffle. "I want France!" America sighed. Canada had massive mood changes when he was drunk. He pulled France over to Canada, who looked rather afraid, and also a little sad. "France!" Canada's face lit up. "Mon cher," France began, but faltered. Canada didn't seem to notice. "You came back for me!" Canada muttered as he clung to France's shirt. "I knew you would!" France dipped his head looking as though he might start crying. "Don't leave." Before the stricken. France could answer, Canada saw America and rushed to him, laughing. "America! Let's play hockey!" America flinched and took a step back. "What about your Tim Hortons?" "Ah! I need a double double! Let's go!" Canada held up America's car keys. "You can't drive!" America scolded. Canada's face began to get dark. " **Eh?** " America was used to this situation from other times he had gone drinking with Canada, and already had an excuse ready " It's common courtesy to drive your guests," he explained, "it's only polite." At the word polite, Canada instantly went meek. "Oh, I'm sorry. Thanks." Canada calmed down after the coffee, and began to talk a mile a minute about various hockey players. "You know, " America began cautiously "you -" " **I won't.** " Canada didn't give him a chance to finish. America hoped he could make it through one more day.

By the end of the day, America, England and France were covered in various scratches and bruises, and the sleeve was torn right off America's shirt from when Canada tried to tackle him. England had passed out on the couch, and France had cried, twice, and was now curled up in a corner seemingly in shock. America had to hold Canada down until he fell asleep, and had gotten kneed in the groin for that. America's house was even more of a mess then normal, looking less like a single male lived there and more like a hurricane did. America tried to sit up from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed, where he had forced Canada to sleep, and found he was too tired to get up. He sighed to himself, and plopped down next to his brother and almost instantly passed out.

_Day 7 without Maple:_

When America woke up, there was no sign of Canada. America's house had been cleaned to a state it hadn't been in many years, and there was a pot of coffee fresh made and still steaming, and a kettle boiling on the stove. England and France were still unconscious, France sprawled on the floor and England on the couch, but America noticed that their cuts had been cleaned and bandaged, and France's shirt had been sewn up, apparently while he was wearing it. On the table in the kitchen, there was a note that said "Sorry" and nothing else. America was just getting worried when the door opened and Canada came back in, with several bags of groceries. "Canada, dude, where have you been?" America demanded, searching Canada's face for his current mood. Canada seemed relaxed enough. "Oh, I went to the store to get some real food because all you have is garbage." He said lightly, apparently without malicious intent. He began setting various items on the table. "I've got corndogs and potato chips!" America whined. "well, it's not your fault you're a total idiot who doesn't know how to make real food and will probably died of diabetes, if obesity doesn't get you first." Canada pleasantly responded. America blanched. This was worse than angry Canada, he realized. Honest Canada is much worse.

A noise from the door announced England's presence, clearly having just woke up. "Ah, Canada!" England froze, and warily eyed Canada. "How are you feeling today?" "oh, its my deadbeat father-figure who usually ignores me!" Canada said in the same light tone, as he poured England some tea. England carefully took the hot cup of tea, looking embarrassed. "Ah, well, um, did you buy this tea for me?" Canada laughed. "of course not! I just used the tea America keeps in his cupboard to give you whenever you come over! Even thought he hates tea..." America could feel his face turning red. "T-that's not true!" he yelped, grabbing his brother around the neck. "eh?" Canada asked meekly, "But didn't you say you bought it for him and to absolutely not tell him that?" America was sure his face was burning at this point, and tightened his choke-hold on his brother, successfully shutting him up as he clawed weakly at his arms and gasped for air. "Of course not!" he said in a higher pitched tone than normal." Cuz if I _had_ said that, and you promised not to tell, you wouldn't, **_right_**? Canada went limp in his arms and America let him go before he passed out. "sorry" Canada said weakly. America looked pointedly away from England, who was sipping his tea with a self-satisfied expression, and a slight flush to his cheeks. "Mon fils!" France announced his own presence loudly, throwing his arms around Canada's shoulders, and rubbing his stubbly chin on Canada's face. "Are you okay? I was so worried for you yesterday!" America waited for Canada to push him away, but surprisingly, Canada didn't seem to mind. "Oui, I'm alright. Sorry for all the trouble I caused yesterday." Canada still made no effort to push France away, so America took it upon himself to step in, putting one hand on France's shoulder and one on his brother's and pushing them apart. America turned to see his brother's grateful expression. After all, he _had_ just saved him from France's clinginess, which would only grow into perversion if he wasn't stopped. But when America saw Canada's face he didn't look happy at all. He looked..hurt? No, that couldn't be it.

America studied Canada's face, trying to read the emotion. "I get it." Canada huffed, pushing America away. "It's not enough for you to steal all England's attention, you have to steal all of France's attention from me too." He stomped over to the stove and began to start cooking, with a large rattling of pans and unnecessary clanging. "That's not it!" America protested" I was saving you!" Canada scoffed at him. "Sure. Why don't you go play 'Hero' somewhere else instead of constantly hurting those around you and not even having the decency to notice." America flinched, hurt. He had always thought that Canada looked up to him, that he was his brother's hero, in a way. "Now Canada!" England scolded. "That was too much!" "I know." Canada murmured softly, putting the pot back down. He moved across the room and put his arms around his brother, and whispered a meek "I'm sorry" into his ear. America still felt a little hurt, but ignored it, because he is a hero. instead, he awkwardly patted Canada on the back and said "It's okay, bro. Only one more day to go!" Canada sighed regretfully, but smiled timidly at his brother and went back to making poutine. America steeled himself, and glanced at England and France. All three seemed to be thinking the same thing: At the end of the day, this will be over.

After lunch, England and America quickly found excused to leave, abandoning France to Canada (not without some glee on England's part). When America called to check in on his brother just before midnight, France was gone. "Yo dude!" America was very cheerful, anticipating a juicy burger in only a few minutes. "How you holding up? I'm already drooling!" he licked his lips, and flipped the burger he was cooking in the frying pan. Canada laughed. "Are you already making a burger? I can hear the sizzling sound." "of course! I need to eat it as soon as midnight hits!" America stated proudly. "well, I can;t laugh at you," Canada conceded "I already have a cup of maple syrup poured. I'm salivating too!" America tried not to dry heave. "You're just gonna drink plain syrup?" "Of course not!" he sighed with relief. "Im also having maple bacon, toast with maple jam, and maple baked beans with it!" His brothers voice was glowing with excitement. "No offense bro" America said, swallowing his disgust, as he flipped the burger onto a fluffy white bun and added a slice of cheese,"But you are gonna die of diabetes before I ever do." The clocked chimed, and there was no answer from Canada's end of the phone, just muffled gulping noises. America also hurried to shove his burger into his mouth and savoured the taste. "OMG, I love burgers." he muttered with his mouth full. "Let's not do this again." Canada suggested. "Mmmhmm" America mumbled in agreement, mouth still full of burger.


	6. National Sport

For a seemingly quiet country, Canada liked to argue. At first glance you wouldn't think he was the fighting type, but when it was just him and America, he always seemed to make sarcastic comments about other countries under his breath, or debate with America about various issues. Which, America thought, was not cute at all. He was brought back to the present argument concerning if donairs, a spicy meat slice in a pita with onions, tomatoes and a creamy sweet garlic sauce was a valid food or not. America had only tried the Canadian dish once, and maintained his stance that it was nasty. Canada maintained _his_ stance with feet spread apart, knees slightly bent, looking rather as though he was preparing to deck someone, in this case, America. 

"Fine then!" Canada declared at the height of the argument. "Let's make a bet! If you can beat me at my national sport, I'll do anything you ask for one day, but if I win, you'll do anything I ask for one day." 

America hesitated for a moment, but the appeal of Canada serving him was too tempting. "You're on!" America declared loudly. Canada smirked with a self-assured expression. "Okay. One month from today we face off." He announced. America was grateful for the time to prepare. "Agreed". And so the plans were set.

For one month, America practiced hockey constantly, day and night. He researched the best strategies, mostly just rewatched recordings of the NHL. He went to a lot of Canada's hockey games and noted down any weaknesses he noticed. He bought himself a new jersey, because, "the clothes make the man" as England used to say. 

Finally, one month later he showed up to the set location where Canada was waiting .But when he got there- "huh? What's going on dude?" America was confused. Canada was standing in the center of a large green field, dressed in a short sleeved jersey and shorts, wearing a helmet and gloves and holding what appeared to be a butterfly net.

"Where the rink?" America asked, looking around the green field.

"What are you talking about?" Canada said with a wicked grin. "My national sport is lacrosse."


	7. Hide and Seek

America stumbled over England hiding behind a large rock in the garden. "What the hell dude? Why're you hiding-mmph!" England caught him and pulled him down desperately, hand over his mouth. "Shhhhh!" He hissed, then froze. Obediently, America also froze as he recognized the footsteps. _crunch._ The footsteps stopped on the gravel nearby. America held his breath, eyes wide. All of a sudden there was a loud bang and a nearby Bush was incinerated in a cloud of smoke. "England?" Canada asked softly, walking over to the incinerated bush, and poking the ashes around with a stick, while balancing the bazooka on his other shoulder. "Come out, come out, wherever you are~" he called sweetly. "Eh? Guess he's not here." He murmured and turned around. America stayed frozen until he no longer could hear the footsteps. England removed his trembling hand from America's mouth. "Are you crazy?" America burst out in a angry whisper. "Why would you agree to play hide and seek with _Canada_ of all people?" "It couldn't be helped!" Britain snapped at him, also in a whisper "he kept talking about how I never payed attention to him as a child, So I offered to play a game with him! I didn't know he gets like this!" America swore under his breath. "I'm gonna text Russia, he's the only one who can stop Canada when he's like this!" He slipped out his phone and typed a quick message to Russia. " _hide and seek. Canada. HELP."_ He sighed with relief when he sent it. "Now all we need to do is survive until Russia arrives!" America said out loud with a sigh. Then he saw England's face, pale and terrified. _crunch_. America felt as though his heart stopped as he looked up. "Eh?" Canada loomed over them. "Found you~" he readied his gun. "RUN!" America grabbed England's hand and bolted. The peaceful scenery behind them turned to ashes. 

Canada finally cornered them at the brick wall at the back of England's garden. "Shit!" America cursed. "We're stuck!" 

Canada stood, blocking the opening, with his bazooka smoking and aimed at them. "It's hide and seek," he laughed,a little too heartily "not tag!" He readied the gun. "found you." Suddenly strong arms came up from behind Canada and held him back. The bazooka fell to the group with a thump. "You are lucky Russia is fast, da?" Russia said in a strained voice. "If I was a moment later you would be dead!" 

Canada struggled fruitlessly for a bit and then went limp. "Have you calmed down?" Russia asked, smiling threateningly. "Ah sorry." Canada said in his usual meek tone. "Guess I went a bit over the top,eh?" He chuckled nervously and England collapsed with relief. "Why the bloody hell is he so violent at hide and seek?" America guiltily hid his face. England noticed immediately. "Hey, wait a moment! I know that look! What the hell did you do, you bastard!" He began shaking America by the collar. "Its your fault for not supervising us when we played together as kids!" he argued. "If you had hung around more this wouldn't have happened!" America was defiant. "America," England said shortly. "Tell me _exactly_ what you did." America gulped. "Well, you see...."


	8. Chibi America and Chibi Canada

"America," England said shortly. "Tell me _exactly_ what you did." America gulped. "Well, you see...."

He thought back to when him and Canada were young.

...........

_America swung his legs boredly in the air, tossing down his tin soldier. He was bored. England was away again. He always was, and when he was home, he didn't have time for America. America was tired of being alone. suddenly he heard a noise at the door. When he looked up he saw Canada standing there, clutching a polar bear cub. America couldn't help but jump. How long had he been there? "um... " the other country started quietly, "Voulez-vous jouer avec moi?" "Huh?" America knew this silent country was his bother, having been introduced to him by England, but being that he was quiet and calm, and generally lacked presence, had quickly lost interest in him. Besides, this country spoke weird. "um..." the other country tired again, this time in English, "Will you play with me?" Normally, America just ignored Canada, as he found him to be quite boring, but at this time, he was dying for some entertainment, and there was his brother, literally offering himself up for it._

_America jumped to his feet, bouncing with excitement. "Lets play pretend! You can be a horrible dragon that kidnapped the princess, and I'll be the hero!" His unsuspecting brother was quick to agree, and the polar bear was deemed the princess and"trapped" on a "tower" made out of piled couch cushions. "I'll save the princess, and you have to stop me!" America instructed, picking up a wooden sword England had made for him. "um, can i have a sword?" Canada asked meekly. " Of course not!" America shot down his brother instantly. "Engwand made this for me, not you! and besides, dragons don't use swords!" "-oh." And with that, America proceed to viciously attack the other nation with a wooden sword, regardless of his brother's wailing._

_After that, Canada wouldn't play "pretend" with him any more. So America suggested "Tag". After being chased around non-stop by america with a cricket bat, Canada refused to play tag with him anymore. When they had played board games together, America disregarded the rules, and did things like steal from the bank in monopoly, or move chess pieces however he liked. When they played sports together, America whaled on his brother, often hitting him with the cricket bat, or kicking the ball into his face when they played football. Playing puzzles or colouring was impossible with America, as he got bored very easily. Finally, a very bruised, battered, and bullied Canada suggested "Hide and seek." America had volunteered to go first. America had searched in his usual manner, Smacking everything that could possibly hide someone with a cricket bat, or shooting things with a water gun, or a paintball gun. Thankfully, Canada was very good at hiding, so he never got caught._

_Finally, America gave up. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!" he bellowed at the tops of his lungs. When he turned around he jumped back with a scream. "Aaah!" Canada was standing there, quietly, like he appeared out of nowhere, with a strange look on his face. "Is it my turn now?" he asked quietly. Pretending he hadn't been scared, America hastily stood back up. "huh? S-Sure." Canada smiled for the first time. "Yay! I'll count!" Before America could think, Canada began to count loudly, while covering his eyes. "1...2...3.." America turned and ran to hide. "6...7..." finding a small hole in England's hedges, America squeezed himself in. "9...10!" Canada finished. He ran into England's garage for a moment, then came running out. " **Ready or not, here I come**!" America snickered, thinking Canada would never find him in his hiding place, not noticing the change in his brother's tone. He heard a rustling noise on the other side of the hedge and went still. After a moment he heard footsteps crunching away and relaxed. _

_That is, until he heard the crackling noise and felt the heat. A moment later, he burst out of his hiding place, screaming, the back of his shirt on fire. Quickly, America dropped onto the cool grass and rolled, trying to extinguish the flames. Once they died down, America sat up, and stared with horrified awe at England's burning hedges. Then he heard a noise from behind him. " **Found you**." He turned slowly, afraid of the tone from behind him. Canada gripped the cricket bat tightly in his hands. "W-wait! STOP!" America cried desperately, holding his hands out in front of him. "You cant hit me! I'm the hero!" "Eh?" Canada tilted his head to the side. " **Je joue juste à cache-cache**." He lifted the bat above his head. America scooted backwards on his butt. _

_America was shaking now. His eyes filled with tears and he gave Canada a look that always made England forget about punishing him. "I don't know what you said! I'm scared! Please don't hurt me!" Canada stopped for a moment,seemingly considering this. America started to relax, by his blood went cold with Canada's next words. " **I'm just playing hide and seek."**_

England stared at America in horror as he finished his story. "That was _Canada_ who burned down my hedges?" America huffed. "I told you it wasn't me! You didn't believe me!" "Well, never mind that!" England ignored him. "What the hell did you do to Canada while I wasn't around?"


	9. Justin Beiber

America had a question that had been eating away at him all day. "Hey," he began suddenly, interrupting China, Russia, and France's conversation. "What do you think about me?" There was a stunned silence for a moment, but China was quick to recover. "What do you mean? Are you feeling aru-ight America?" France was also looking a little concerned. "It's not that!" America said, a little frustrated, "I just wanted to know what you thought. Like I know I'm the hero, and I'm totally amazing, but like...". He faltered for a moment. "I don't ever upset you, do I?" The three starred at him slackjawed. 

"America, you -" France said slowly in shock, "You realize how irratating and hurt full you are?" America, flinched. "Wait, you think I'm annoying?" "Ah.." France changed the subject. "Of course I think you're a strong country." He looked uncomfortably at the wall to left of America's head. "So you think I'm annoying." America scowled. France looked pleadingly at Russia for help, who looked pleased to be relied on. "I think America is a very arrogant country." he said pleasantly. "Cocky countries are so much more fun to break." He finished with a sinister air, turning gleaming eyes appraisingly towards America. "You want to become one with Russia, da?" America stepped back with a shudder. "No way, dude you're kinda creepy." 

He turned to China, almost pathetically. "China, what do _you_ think of me?" He made his puppy dog eyes at China, who considered his question with his usual brusk air. "Well, it's true that you are annoying, loud, violent, and generally self centered, and don't care about the hurtful things you say-" China stated, and America felt like he was being stabbed by multiple arrows. "But I don't have anything against you, really." America brightened a little.

"Although, I'm conflicted because of Justin Beiber." China added as an afterthought. "D'accord." France agreed. "Ah, everytime Russia hears him sign, I want to introduce him to my Magic Metal Pipe of Pain!" Russia added, brandishing the weapon he hadn't had a moment ago. "Hmm?" England turned from where he had been ~~eavesdropping~~ standing nearby. "Yes, I must agree." He chimed in. "I really can't stand him. Even fairies won't go near him!" "You can hardly call that music." Austria scoffed as he walked by. "Wait!" America yelled, face growing hot. "Justin Bieber isn't my fault! Blame Canada for him!" 

"Who?" China asked blankly. "Canada!" America shouted, frustrated. "My brother, Canada!" "You were talking about me?" Canada suddenly appeared at America's side, looking rather excited to be noticed. "Bro, thank God, please tell them that Justin Beiber is one of yours! They said he was from my place!" America pleaded desperately, holding the shocked Canada by the shoulders. Canada looked surprised, and looked over at France. "Now, America," England chided, " Don't blame Canada for your mistakes!" "wha-" America was scandalized. "I'm not blaming him! It's true!" "Well, Canada?" England turned to the mentioned country. "Is Justin Beiber one of yours?" 

Canada looked like a deer in headlights for a moment, then seemingly regained his reason. "Eh? Justin Beiber? You think _I_ caused him?" His purple eyes teared up ever so slightly. "Of course not, mon fils." France hurriedly assured him. "We just had to ask." "How could anything like _that_ come from such a nice and sweet country as Canada?" England agreed, nodding. "Seriously, who are you?" China was left out of the loop. "Become one with Russia, da?" Russia took advantage of the commotion to attempt to convince America to join him.

"Wha-?" America stared with betrayed eyes at his brother. "Dude, come with me!" He grabbed Canada by the arm and pulled him into the hall. "Dude, what the hell?" He demanded, slamming his brother against the wall. "Now they're all going to blame me for Beiber! What if they beat me up because of him or something!?" He glared piercingly at his brother's seemingly innocent face. Canada stared at his brother for a moment, then his face morphed into a malicious smirk. " Oh, How awful." he sarcastically replied. " Imagine being blamed for and beat up because of something someone else did." The innocent face he has worn only moments ago had completely disappeared, and the usually meek country looked quite evil. "Wouldn't that be _terrible?"_ Canada almost purred the words. "Why you-" America pulled back his arm to punch his brother, but Canada suddenly curled up, his face morphing into an innocent look of fear. Amerca froze, and a moment later, England grabbed his arm. "I can't believe you! How could you bully Canada like that so he'd take the fall for you? You're just too much!" 

England pulled America away from Canada and pulled the now trembling nation into his arms. "There, there, I won't let America hurt you anymore." "Maple." Canada murmured in response, leaning into England's arms. He shot his brother a taunting look over England's shoulders. "Bastard!" America gritted his teeth and glared at Canada. " **I'll get you for this."** He threatened. Canada only smirked at him before burying his head in England's shoulders with a whimper. "That's enough!" England scolded, turning and grabbing America by the ear. "Why don't you have a taste of your own medicine? You CN listen to ten hours of Justin Beiber, and reflect on your actions!" "Nooooooo~" America screeched as he was dragged away. Canada smiled politely, and waved sweetly as England led America to hell.


	10. Sale

America was beginning to wonder if anyone actually knew Canada, because otherwise, he would never be branded a "nice country." Not with his brother's terrible personality, even towards family. Like that time he had a "sale" on maple syrup.... 

"Is that a sale?" Britain spotted the sign from several blocks away and bolted to the small vendor selling maple syrup on the edge of a snowy lawn. "England, I do t think you should buy anything from there." America warned warily, recognizing the stall. 

Britain ignored America's warning and ran towards the table. "I say, what is going on?" Britain eagerly looked over the table of wares. "Ah, I see it's a sale on maple syrup!" Britain realized, looking up and meeting the vendor's eyes for the first time. He gasped. "Canada!" Canada's eyes flashed with what America recognized as malicious intent. Unfortunately for Britain, he failed to see the look,instead focused solely on the maple syrup. "It's a good sale!" Canada responded in a happy tone. "Buy one for the price of two, get one free! " He held out a bottle of maple syrup in both hands enticingly. "Well, I could hardly pass up such a great opportunity." Britain was already eagerly digging into his pockets. "England, don't-" America hesitated as he saw his brother's eyes flash behind Britain. "Hush, America, really now, you're much to old to still be a brat." Britain carelessly scolded. America scowled.

 **"Fine then."** If Britain was dead set on buying syrup at such a good "sale", and on being an ass about it, who was America to stop him? America let a particularly cruel smile slip onto his face as he slipped his arm around Britain's shoulders. "Hey, Canada, bro," He began, meeting his brother's eye, "What are you doing?" America drawled easily. Canada stiffened for a moment. "England is family, we can't charge him like everyone else." He stated, still smirking. "Why don't you give him your super secret sale price?" Britain perked up even more at the thought of a bigger discount. Canada seemed to understand what America was doing.

"Eh? You mean the family discount?" "That's the one!" America winked. " Didn't you give me this discount before as well?" " Canada made a show of reluctance." Yes, but there's no way Britain wants that many bottles of Maple syrup... " Britain had a look of sheer determination on his face, and America knew that he had already decided to purchase using the "family discount". "Family discount?" He probed Canada for answers. Canada grinned like a man who just won the lottery, but Britain didn't notice. " Yes, my special, family only sale!" He pulled out some papers. "Buy 5 bottles for the price of 10, and get 4 free, and you get a free 'make-your-own-snowman' kit!" England's eyes were dancing now.

Canada passed a paper to England, and although he couldn't see it, America already knew what it said. The top of the page would read: "Make your own snowman!" Followed by a picturesque snowman with a coal smile and a carrot nose, sporting a red and white scarf and a sleek top hat. At the bottom under this item in small, unnoticeable print, more lines read: "* _Clothing not included._ *Carrots sold separately. *Delivery unavailable for this item." Britain eagerly took the paper, doling out the required price. America could already tell he hadn't read the whole paper, if only for the reason that he was still smiling, and not trying to haggle with Canada for a better deal. As Britain tucked the bottles of syrup into his bag with dancing eyes, America began to feel a little guilty. But, at this point, he'd gone too far to back down.

He trailed behind Britain hesitantly as he followed the directions on the back of the flyer to pick up his 'make-your-own-snowman' kit. As Britain walked up to the destination snowbank, America felt a pang in his heart for a moment as Britain's face fall when he saw the snow pile with the drooping cardboard sign sitting sadly on top.  
"Free snowman. " The sign read. In smaller letters underneath it read "Some assembly required."  
"Oh."  
The word hung on the frosty air.  
America looked the other way. "I did try to warn you." He muttered under his breath. Luckily, Britain didn't seem to hear him, and after a moment the depressed look was replaced by his usual determination. He pulled a book out of his bag and flipped through it, chanting. America watched with a pitying smile as Britain "cast a spell" that he was so fond of, and declared that it was a teleportation spell, and it would deliver the snow to his front door tomorrow, when the fairies would help him build it. With a sad smile at Britain's delusions, and guilt pricking at his conscience, America spoke up. “Hey, if you want Tony and I can help you build it? Tony loves snowmen." He suggested. Britain instantly brushed him of, no doubt remembering how much the alien didn't like him. " I'll be fine, thanks. " And so America swallowed his guilt, and decided to forget about the incident as he and Britain parted ways.

And he did forget, right up until that night when he got a distressed call from Britain. "America, why did you let me buy that maple syrup from Canada? One for the price of two, isn't a sale at all! Even if I get one free, It's just normal priced! Moreover I lost money with that family discount!" America weighed his options, and decided to play dumb, rather than get caught between an angry Britain and an upset Canada. " Huh? " He asked, doing his best " I don't understand" voice. "What's the deal England? I got the same discount before and I didn't have a problem? I'm not too good at math, but I'm great at sales!" He forced out a hearty laugh. He heard a sigh from Britain's side of the phone. "Of course." Britain said in an exasperated tone. "I forgot you're an idiot. Forget it." The phone clicked Britain hung up, and America released the breath he was holding. Being considered an idiot by Britain was a better option then getting stuck in this issue, America reflected.

Just then his phone buzzed. It was a text from Canada." I just got a call from Britain about the syrup. He didn't know how to scold me when I asked if he didn't like it and hung up. Lol." America stared at his brothers text, trying to think of a response. Before he could, another text came in.  
 **"Wonder when he's gonna realize I gave him a random pile of snow?"**


	11. Forgot something?

America dropped the grocery bags on the table with a sigh and instantly raided the fridge for a can of coke, gulping down the cool bubbly drink. "Ahhh" he sighed in satisfaction. "That's the stuff. I'm so beat. I'm never going shopping again." And with that declaration he threw himself down on the couch, ignoring the groceries on the table. "I'll put them away later." He promised himself. America was just reaching for the tv remote when his cellphone rang, and fumbled to get it out of his pocket and answer the call. "Hello?"  
"Hey America," The gentle tone began, and America recognized Canada's tired voice. "Wassup bro?"   
"Oh, you know, just...shopping." There was a strange line of tension in Canada's voice, but America decided to ignore it. "Dude, I just got back from shopping!" "Really?" Canada's tone began to sound a little strained. "Did you get everything?" America blinked, and suddenly began to put two and two together. Was it Canada's birthday? It couldn't be, Canada's birthday was only a few days before his own, which wasn't for another couple months. Did he offer to pick something up for Canada and forget again? He tried to keep his voice casual as he replied. "Well, yeah, I think so. Might have to go back. I feel like I forgot something." There was a moment of silence from the other end of the phone, and then a sound like a long drown out sigh. "Canada?" America prodded, beginning to understand that Canada was annoyed for some reason. Finally, Canada responded.  
"Yeah, you did forget something. " His tone was deadpan. America's heart sped up. "oh? What?" He asked, a little too tensely.   
  
" **Me.** "

"Shit!" Amercia swore without thinking. "Wait right there, bro, I'm coming to get you!" He lept to his feet and grabbed his car keys from the table and ran out the door. _Again?_ _This is the third time this month!_


	12. Food at a meeting

America frowned. He was frowning for two reasons, the first being that once again Germany had confiscated his snacks, and England had snitched on him when he tried to sneak his back-up snacks out. It just wasn't fair! How did they expect America to have good ideas when his stomach was growling? When China shot him a sharp glared when he tried to slide his backup backup snacks out, it felt like the whole world (litteraly) was against him. It was so unfair, especially when America could see the second reason for the frown sitting right across the table from him and doing much worse than he had been. 

Canada was tipping his chair back on its back two legs, heels up in the table, snacking on a donut pulled from the box resting on his legs, and washing it down with syrup straight from the bottle. And no yelled at him for any of it! In fact they didn't even notice him! America knew his brother was usually overlooked, but this was going too far. He almost thought Canada was trying to see how far he could go without getting caught.

He glanced around the table with a deepening scowl as he looked for some sign that someone else noticed. He looked to France first, hopefully, but France was "accidently" jabbing England with his pencil under the table, and England was crushing his foor with his own. Great. So they were both useless then. He looked to Netherlands, but he looked slightly out of it, and if America were to guess, he'd say he was high as a kite. Useless!

He turned his head to look at Cuba, and hesitated on the albino man behind Germany, shoulders shaking with barely surpressed laughter and clearly seeing Canada's antics. Prussia, America realized. Germany's brother. America pouted. Disgusting. Why wasnt he shouting? Or at least reprimanding Canada? He really wasn't like Germany at all! Not that America woukd have minded if he was in Canada's shoes, but he wasn't, and if he was getting punished it only felt right that his brother should be too.

His attention was drawn back to Cuba as something small and white flicked by. Cuba made a circle with his arms and a moment later the white ball flicked back. A crumpled straw wrapper, probably from Canada's Ice cap. America watched with growing infuriation as Cuba looked up, met his eyes, _smirked_ and sent the paper ball back across the table to Canada. Oh, America was going to get him back as soon as the meeting was over! He glared at his brother, who didn't notice. 

The chair beside Canada shifted, and America's feelings soared. There was at least one country he could always count on to start shit if only for the sake of amusement, and America stared hopefully at Russia, the beginings of a you're-gonna-get-it smirk forming on his face. Canada got bored of his paper ball game and tilted his chair back once more, pulling France's (probably stolen) fedora over his eyes, clearly planning on sleeping. America swiveled his head back to Russia expectantly. Why wasnt he mentioning it? 

Russia sipped at a Tim Hortons ice cap and America gritted his teeth. So that was why. That bastard Canada bought him off! America continued to glare daggers at Canada's lounging form, even after the rise and fall of his chest told America he was fast asleep. It was almost poetic justice when Canada turned a little in his sleep and the chair tweetered, then fell with a loud crash, drawing attention to Canada in a messy heep on the floor, surounded by donut crumbs and the empty box as evidence as his crimes.

That is, right up until the moment Germany angrily snapped a name at him.

"America!".

America hated his brother. 


End file.
